He peeled off his boots and ran a hand over hair damp from the snow. He was nearly to the armchair where he’d slept every night since Eleanor’s arrival when her voice cut through the night.
“No,” she said, and he nearly jumped at the sound of her voice. “I’ve had enough of you martyring yourself by sleeping in that chair when there is plenty of room over here.”
He stood there stupidly, one hand on the back of the chair as he tried to understand her words.
“You may place pillows between us if you wish, but I won’t stand for another night of you sleeping in a chair in your own home.” She was sitting up in bed and looking right at him.
When he didn’t move, she let out a frustrated sound. “You make your decision. I’m going to sleep now.” She laid down, her back to him.
Merrick glanced at the chair. It was impossible to sleep through the night curled up in it. What he wouldn’t give to fully stretch out and rest for hours on end without waking.
But that would mean lying next to Eleanor. Andthatwould mean he’d likely never fall asleep to begin with.
“Merrick, for the love of everything good, will you please lie down already?” Her irritated voice was muffled against the quilt she’d pulled up to her chin.
It sounded as if she’d be angry with him if he didn’t take the empty spot in the bed. He wouldn’t sleep either way, so what did it matter where that happened?
Mind made up and ignoring the hammering of his heart again, Merrick moved to the bed. Easing his large frame down as gently as he could, he laid on his side so as not to take up too much room.
It was hard to breathe normally, lying this close to Eleanor. She didn’t sleep either, at least not right away. As the minutes ticked by and the fire crackled against the wood, Merrick finally found himself relaxing. Eleanor must have too, as her breathing evened out to the rhythm of sleep.
And finally, in the wee hours of the morning, he drifted off with a warm feeling of contentment in his heart.
Chapter Thirteen
JOHNNIE WAS HALFWAYdown the church pew before Eleanor was able to grab his hand and lead him back to his seat beside her.
“Just a little longer,” she whispered to him. Thinking quickly, she pulled a clean handkerchief from her reticule. “Here, why don’t you see if you can’t turn this into a boat?”
The five-year-old busied himself with the square of cloth. Eleanor checked on Emmy, who sat on her other side, between herself and Merrick. But she needn’t have worried about the younger girl. Emmy had spent most of her mother’s wedding ceremony staring up at Merrick, who occasionally made a funny face at her.
At peace for half a moment, Eleanor turned her attention back to the wedding. Mr. Whiteside looked awfully handsome as he held Rebecca’s hands and repeated his vows. Rebecca had seemed more resigned than excited for her marriage, and Eleanor prayed that might change. Mr. Whiteside seemed a decent man, even if he was inexperienced with children, and he appeared utterly smitten with Rebecca.
“I now pronounce you man and wife,” Reverend Canton said, stepping back with a smile. He gave Mr. Whiteside a meaningful look, and then, hesitantly, the man leaned down to kiss Rebecca. Eleanor went warm, remembering that exact moment from her own wedding to Merrick. She didn’t dare look up at him.
“Yuck!” Roger said loudly from the opposite side of Merrick, where he sat with his two older sisters.
“Shush, Roger! It’s what you’resupposedto do at a wedding. Don’t you know anything?” Sarah, the nine-year-old, admonished her brother.
“Of course he doesn’t, and you know that,” Gwynnie, the oldest, said.
